


I'm Not Sick

by artificialmillie



Series: Oneshots [3]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Sickfic, Vomiting, tw vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 19:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15468654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialmillie/pseuds/artificialmillie
Summary: Aja takes care of Farrah while she’s sick, and when she picks up the illness herself, she refuses to admit it.





	I'm Not Sick

Aja woke up to the wonderful sound of her girlfriend coughing up her lungs next to her. Every day this week this had happened, and whatever illness Farrah had, it seemed to be getting worse. She continued her coughing fit for another half a minute, her body convulsing with each one, before she gently lowered herself back into bed, whining. She crawled over to Aja, who was beginning to open her eyes to the harsh light of the morning sun, and attached herself to her like a limpet.

“Aja,” she said, her voice rough and hoarse. “Everything hurts.”

“Go back to sleep,” Aja replied into her hair, “and I can book you a doctors appointment.”

“We don’t have that kind of money,” she said, her tone cracking. Sometimes, both of them hated living in a large, expensive city.

“Then I’ll go out and buy some medicine.” She ran her fingers gently up and down along Farrah’s bare arm, and she noticeably winced. “Even that hurts?” she asked.

Farrah nodded. “My skin just aches, and my throat feels like I swallowed sandpaper.”

“Hm, I knew that takeout last night was off,” she joked.

“ _Aja_ ,” She slammed her hand down weakly onto Aja’s midsection over the duvet. “It’s not funny.”

“Hey, I was just trying to make you feel a bit better,” Aja said, laughing softly.

“Well, you didn’t,” Farrah huffed.

“What’s with you, Grumpy Pants?”

She sighed heavily. “I am in a lot of pain.”

“That’s why I’m going to the store for some Tylenol and cough syrup.” Aja started to push herself off of the bed, but Farrah protested with another whine. “Oh, so you don’t want to feel better?”

“I just don’t want you to leave,” she said, the last word coming out in the sound of a sob. She buried her face into the pillow that Aja had been lying on to disguise the hot tears that pricked her eyes painfully.

“I’ll be fifteen minutes, baby. At the very most.” She slowly slipped out of the bed, but not before kissing the top of Farrah’s head gently. Farrah stayed in the same position, silently sulking.

Aja went to the bathroom to adjust her hair into a slightly presentable ponytail, grabbing a hoodie lying on the floor to put over her pyjamas. She looked like she’d been on a three-day bender, but that was exactly how she felt being woken up this early in the morning.

As she stepped out of their apartment, she wondered how Farrah’s mother had ever dealt with her being sick. She was a loving, patient woman, but everyone had their limits. Whenever Farrah encountered any inconvenience, her instinct was to turn into a three-year-old and cry, or throw a tantrum if she was really bothered. There had been one instance in a grocery store that ended in Aja cradling her for a couple minutes so she wouldn’t cry at the fact that all her favourite snacks were out of stock.

The store was a few blocks away, and everything was relatively easy to locate. She picked up a bottle of Tylenol and a large bottle of cough syrup, as well as a protein bar to eat on the way back that she hoped would give her a bit of energy. On her way to the counter, however, she stopped and looked at all the fresh fruit on display. It all looked a hundred times better than the cheap, microwavable meals that they ate almost daily because neither of them knew how to cook. She picked up a sack of oranges and a box of grapes, hoping that the vitamins would help Farrah get a little better.

Soon, she was on her way back home, feeling weirdly proud of her purchases. She actually felt like an adult.

When she got through the door, she was greeted by the TV in the living room playing softly. Farrah was bundled up in their duvet on the couch, and her head shot around when she heard the door open. Aja took everything out of the plastic bag and handed Farrah the cough syrup, walking into the kitchen to fetch her a glass of water. When she came back, Farrah was drinking it directly from the bottle like it was a magic potion.

“Farrah!” Aja exclaimed.

She took the bottle from her lips. “What?”

“Literally, what the fuck just went through your head?”

“My eyes hurt too much to read the instructions.”

“But they don’t hurt enough to stop you from watching Jersey Shore?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, just… Don’t do something like that again. I got some water for you to take the Tylenol with.” She walked over to the couch, handing the water to Farrah as she sat down and reached for the other bottle of medicine. Farrah took two and swallowed them with the water. She looked down quizzically at the fruit sitting on the table, then gave the same look to Aja.

“They’ll help you get better. And it’s way nicer than eating the same fast food we get every day.” If she had more energy, Farrah would’ve protested at Aja’s proposition. But deep down, she knew that her girlfriend was right.

Farrah simply nodded, lifting up the edge of the duvet for Aja to climb in with her. She did just that, wrapping an arm around Farrah’s shoulders, pulling her into her chest. She noticed that Farrah was now wearing one of her zip-up jackets, rose pink with white lettering, and it was fuzzy on the inside. When she coughed into its oversized sleeve, she decided she didn’t want it back.

“You’re very warm,” Aja said, pressing the back of her hand to Farrah’s forehead. Farrah just leaned into her touch, closing her eyes, far too tired now to respond. The cough syrup had hit her  _hard_.

“It’s no biggie,” she said.

“It’s a bit of a biggie, babe.” She ran her fingers through Farrah’s thick, wavy hair, pulling it up into a ponytail and tying it with a hairband from her wrist. “We need to keep you cool.” She unzipped the jacket she was wearing, too.

“I’m always cool.”

“Shut up.”

-

With a little extra dose of cough syrup, Farrah slept relatively peacefully that night. While she’d been attached to Aja non-stop throughout the day, the most she’d let her do was play with her hair. Every part of her hurt too much for their usual affection, even the hair-playing, but she was willing to make a few sacrifices.

Aja was still downstairs, sorting through various bills and some papers for work. Having Farrah sitting on her lap the whole day had prevented her from working, so now she was asleep, she had some time before bed to do anything essential. She worked at a small makeup studio and had some forms from clients to check over, as well as make a start on restocking some of their supplies. Nothing challenging, but she would’ve rather been asleep.

She was there for another twenty minutes, hoping that the work she was doing would be good enough for tomorrow. She much preferred actually doing makeup to all the boring writing that she was loaded with, since she was the youngest there. They would get what they were given.

Once she’d shut her laptop down, she went into the kitchen to grab a snack and some water before she went upstairs to join Farrah. She picked up a few grapes to eat while she walked up the stairs, and set her glass of water down on the floor next to her side of the bed while she changed into her pyjamas again. Farrah stirred when she climbed under the covers, rolling around before waking up properly to cough.

“How are you feeling?” Aja whispered softly.

Farrah groaned in response. “Just kill me.”

“I think I’ll cuddle you instead.”

“… That would be the next best thing.” She scooted over to Aja as close as she could, and Aja turned around to spoon her.

“This way I can prevent you from coughing in my face,” Aja joked.

“You’re, like, bound to get sick just from being around me, anyway,” Farrah said.

“I really fucking hope not.” She sighed. “I don’t think work would appreciate me infecting all the makeup.”

Farrah noticeably cringed at the thought. “All my highlighter is probably infected now.”

“Oh, what a shame; your cheeks won’t look silver-plated anymore,” Aja said sarcastically, laughing.

“Shut up,” Farrah replied, although she joined in a second later. Her laughing transitioned to her coughing again, her body tensing against Aja’s. Aja pressed a kiss to her upper back. “I’m sorry I’m such a pain to deal with when I’m sick.”

Aja shushed her. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I get irritated easily.”

“I’d rather you stay and be annoyed than leave and be annoyed.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not leaving.”

-

Aja awoke to the same thing the next day, except this time, accompanied by her own sore throat and headache. She winced as she opened her eyes, the sunlight slicing through the curtains and straight into her retinas.  _Oh, fuck my life_ , she thought to herself, slowly moving out of bed to grab the Tylenol from the bathroom. As she rose, a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she reached for the wall as she stumbled. Her vision blackened at the edges for a second before returning to normal, and she continued on her slow walk down the hall.

Her throat was dry and tight as she swallowed the painkiller, and when she looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes were puffy and her neck was swollen. She sighed sharply; she had to go to work, and she wasn’t going to let a little headache and sore throat stop her. She was not going to get sick.

She went back to her and Farrah’s room and changed into a dark shirt and jeans (she found that dark colours stopped loose pigments showing up on her), and she found Farrah sitting up in bed, looking a little sorry for herself.

“Feeling any better?” Aja asked her, and she was surprised when her voice came out as a croak. She discreetly cleared her throat.

“Not really,” Farrah replied, “but I guess it always feels worse in the morning.”

Aja turned around, her shirt unbuttoned and her legs bare, and quickly went down to the bathroom to get the cough syrup. She handed the bottle to Farrah. “Okay, I want to see you drink this, but this time, not like you’re downing a shot.”

Farrah nodded and poured a capful of syrup, dumping it into her mouth. She looked Aja up and down, at first like she was looking for approval, but when she snared her bottom lip between her teeth, it was clear she was having a much different response.

“God, I miss kissing you,” she said.

“You have no idea,” Aja said. She perched on the edge of the bed and kissed her forehead, just between her eyebrows. “Believe me, I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you once you’re better.” She stood back up, fiddling with the buttons on her shirt as she walked back over to her closet.

“For now, I can just watch you change.” She smirked.

Aja looked over her shoulder, a half-smile on her lips. “Perv.”

She winked. “You know it.”

-

“Aja!” Miss Fame greeted upon her entrance, a beaming smile on her face. “Oh, dear, did you not sleep well?” She scanned her face, eyeing up each telling sign that she wasn’t 100%.

Fame never meant harm, but she could be awfully blunt. “Uh, you could say that,” Aja said, rubbing the back of her neck. “My, um,  _partner_  is sick.”

“A case of the man-flu, by any chance?” she asked, her smile now playful.

Aja laughed, her face reddening. “Who knows,” she said. “Whatever it is, there’s a lot of coughing and spluttering.”

Fame looked back up from the makeup she was organising, squinting her eyes and skimming over Aja’s face quickly. “You’re not sick, are you?”

“No, no, definitely not; I’m doing just fine.” Maybe if she told herself that enough, her body would begin to believe it. The studio felt more hot and stuffy than usual, and that wasn’t just from the overhead lights.

-

“Aja, you don’t look so good,” Farrah said a few days later when her girlfriend arrived home from work. “Are you sure you haven’t picked up anything from me?”

She closed her eyes as she slumped down next to her on the couch. “I’m fine,” she lied, “just…” she inhaled and then exhaled deeply, “tired.”

Farrah was in much better condition than she was now that she’d actually made an effort to get better. She was sleeping at least eight hours per night; she’d taken the appropriate dosage of cough syrup and painkillers; and she was actually eating healthy food that she’d gone out and bought herself. Of course, she was still milking it as much as she could, but she had started to ease off once she’d noticed that Aja wasn’t that well.

“I can tell when you’re lying,” Farrah said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I think I just need a nap.” She went to push herself off of the couch, but her joints ached way too much to move properly. It was probably the effect of being on her feet all day.

“Aja, seriously. Don’t think I haven’t heard you hacking up a cough whenever you leave the room.”

Aja opened her eyes, turning to look at Farrah’s concerned expression. “What?” she deadpanned. “I’m okay.”

“Aja, if you don’t admit that you’re sick, I will cry. Right here, right now.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Farrah looked her up and down, this time with disdain. “You think I wouldn’t?” she questioned. “You once called me the Queen of Crying.”

“Fine!” Aja growled, the sound partially coming from her irritated throat. “I’m sick. But it’s nothing major.”

“Please, just take a day off so you can recover. You work yourself too hard.”

“I’ll just see how I feel tomorrow. Fame will send me home if I’m too unwell.”

It was clear that Farrah still wasn’t convinced, and she leant her head on the back of their couch. She looked up at Aja, her eyebrows furrowed, and her heart ached to see her girlfriend in pain.

“Come here,” Aja said, opening her arms. Farrah shuffled over and pulled her arms around her, settling down with her back against Aja’s chest. Aja kissed the top of her head and she hummed contently.

“As much as I love you taking care of me, you need to take care of yourself,” Farrah said softly. She held one of Aja’s hands to her lips.

“I will, I will,” Aja dismissed. “You’re my priority, though.”

Farrah wasn’t that assured. Nevertheless, she relaxed into Aja’s embrace; she could never resist something so comforting. She could hear Aja wheezing behind her, but soon that wheezing evened out, and it became evident that she’d fallen asleep.

-

The next day, Farrah received a call from an unknown number, around one o’clock. Normally, she’d ignore someone not in her contacts; they were more often than not scams or advertisers, but something told her that this call was important. She moved from her nest of blankets to reach for her phone, sliding her thumb across her screen and putting it to her ear.

“Hello?” she spoke cautiously into her phone.

“Hi, this was the number listed as Aja’s emergency contact,” a woman responded.

“W-what?” She suddenly felt dizzy. “Is she okay?!”

“She fainted earlier while sorting some brushes; she’s quite pale. She’s sitting outback with a cold flannel on her head.”

“I’m on my way,” Farrah said, ejecting herself from the couch, switching off the TV, and running upstairs to change.

“Did she pick something up from her boyfriend?” the woman asked.

“Boyfriend?” Farrah questioned, but a moment later she’d put the two pieces together. “Oh,  _boyfriend_. Definitely. He feels extremely guilty about it.” She put the woman on speakerphone before throwing the device to her bed so she could pull some clothes on.

“I should think so!” she said. “She’s not in the best condition.”

“Tell her I’ll be there as soon as I can. Please.”

“Okay, love.”

With a desperate tug on her jeans, Farrah exited the apartment as quickly as she could, and as she walked, she opened her phone to call an Uber for twenty minutes later. She tried to hold back tears at the thought of Aja in her current state, but she knew that they were going to fall anyway. Luckily, the studio wasn’t too far from where they lived, but even so, Farrah picked up the pace.

She arrived roughly ten minutes later, and Fame - she read her name badge - who she assumed to be the woman from the phone call, smiled at her. She rushed over, her heart beating a thousand times a minute and her body on fire.

“I’m here for Aja,” she said breathlessly. She coughed violently into her elbow.

“Oh, right this way,” Fame replied, pushing her chair away from the desk and motioning for Farrah to follow her. Farrah, despite herself, looked around at the building in awe. The walls were stacked floor-to-shelf with makeup and makeup tools, all in colour order, and she wanted to try every single thing. When Aja first started working there and would talk about it non-stop, she now completely understood why.

She took her to a room outback and opened the door, and Aja was sitting on a chair with a wet flannel rolled up on her forehead. She slowly blinked open her eyes, and Farrah ran over to her to pull her into a hug.

“Oh, my God, baby, are you okay?” she spoke into Aja’s hair, her eyes starting to well with tears even more.

“I-” she replied hoarsely. “No. I just want to go home.” She pulled Farrah down so she could hug her back more comfortably.

“There’s an Uber arriving in a minute, hon,” she said, pulling back after a moment and crouching down next to her. She looked over at Fame. “Is there anywhere for her to lie down?”

Fame shook her head. “Sorry. This stuff doesn’t normally happen, so there’s no first-aid room,” she said. “Will you guys be alright back here?”

Aja nodded. “I can wait a few minutes.” Fame nodded curtly and shut the door behind her, giving them both a sympathetic smile.

Farrah removed the flannel from Aja’s forehead, and it was incredibly warm. She assumed this was the breakroom, hence the fridge and sink and various chairs dotted around, and she ran the piece of cloth under the cold tap. She wrung it out before walking back over to her girlfriend and placing it back on her forehead.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Aja croaked. “You’re still sick.”

“I’m not the one who fainted at work!” Farrah exclaimed, frustrated tears threatening to spill over.

“I’m sorry,” Aja said gently, pressing the flannel to her head. “I just- I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t want to look… I don’t know.”

“Aja, if you’re sick, you’re sick,” she said. “It’s not bad to take a break.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket - their Uber driver was outside the studio. “Come on; I’ll help you up.”

Aja discarded the flannel, placing it on the floor, and hooked one arm over Farrah’s shoulders. The smaller girl stood up, lifting both of them. She checked that Aja was okay before proceeding, and soon enough they were out the door and into the car.

After putting on her seatbelt, Aja leant against Farrah’s shoulder and closed her eyes. She sighed deeply and let her head fall forward; she coughed aggressively into her arm, the noise sounding like a sputtering engine. Farrah wrapped one arm around her, pulling her close.

Aja felt like an idiot. An absolute, fucking idiot. She knew way better than to go into work in her state, and she had to admit now (since it was obvious she wasn’t okay) that she had never felt so ill in her life. She could’ve knocked over a shelf; all the makeup would’ve been ruined. She recoiled into the seat, her anger at herself eating at her from the inside.

The ride was over almost as soon as it began, but she was still grateful that Farrah had ordered it instead of letting them both walk. They both thanked the driver before getting out, and Farrah made sure that she had total hold of Aja as they walked up to their apartment. Once they were inside, she walked Aja over to the couch and set her down, clearing the blankets away. She speedwalked to the kitchen to get some water for her.

“You’re drinking all of this, okay?” she half instructed, half demanded. “I’ll be back in a moment.” She disappeared upstairs.

Water had never tasted so good, and Aja began to feel dizzy with the sheer amount that she was drinking. A minute or so passed, and she heard water hitting the bottom of the bathtub from upstairs.  _Farrah deserves a nice, long bath after today_ , she thought to herself. She drank the rest of the water before pushing herself up from the couch to get some more.

When she returned, she felt lightheaded, and took that as a signal to lie down. She hated to admit defeat, although today, it had become pretty clear that the illness was admitting it for her. Slowly, she lowered herself down so she was lying across the couch, and she rested her eyes as she waited for Farrah to return.

Her few minutes of peace were soon interrupted. Instead of the constant fiery sensation all over her body, she began to fluctuate between hot and cold. This kind of thing was typical when she was sick, but she’d never felt it come on so strongly and suddenly. She tried her best to ignore it, forcing her eyes shut, but it wasn’t long before she was panicking.

She shot up, and stars were flying past the edge of her vision. Her stomach twisted and felt full despite its emptiness, and as a hot flash came over her, she reached for her water in hopes of trying to regulate her temperature. She took a small sip, and as she did, regret immediately filled her.

In a flash, she was off the couch, running to the kitchen and leaning over the sink. She choked up the contents of her stomach into the metal basin, gagging a little as she did so. Luckily, it was mostly water, but she still felt as awful as anyone else who’d just suddenly thrown up. She stood there, gripping the countertop, shivering.

“Aja?” Farrah called from the living room. “Where are you?”

“Kitchen,” she replied quietly.

Farrah wandered into the room, and as she spotted Aja, her heart broke in two. She paced over, her bare feet padding along the linoleum, and let out a whine at the situation in front of her.

“Did you throw up?” she asked softly, rubbing circles into the space between Aja’s shoulder blades.

Aja nodded, still unmoving. Farrah hated everything about vomit, and did her best not to pack her bags and run to the nearest hotel at that very moment. Aja’s sick was very minimal, probably caused by her body temperature, and probably nothing to worry about. At least, that’s what she told herself as she pulled her into a hug.

“I want my mom,” Aja admitted with a sob, hiding her face in Farrah’s neck. She’d never been one to get homesick, but something about being ill made her overemotional. She missed her mother’s undivided attention, the tender care she had as she tried to help her feel better. Her absolute dedication, and to top it all off, the hot soup. It wasn’t that Farrah lacked any of these things - it was just a lot different. She’d never felt this rough without her mom there to help her.

Farrah had to stop herself from crying at the confession. “She’s not here right now,” she said, stroking Aja’s hair. It was still tied in a loose braid from work, and she gently undid it with her other hand. Once her hair fell across her shoulders, she hugged her tighter. “You’ll just have to put up with me and my shitty caring skills.”

“Can you make soup?” Aja asked hopefully, sniffing.

“I can try,” she said. “It can’t be that hard.”

Aja nodded, squeezing Farrah. Normally, she liked the feeling of towering over her girlfriend, often teasing her about their height difference, but in that moment, she just wanted to feel small.

“Hey, how about a hot bath?” Farrah suggested, pulling back to look at Aja’s miserable face. “It’s like a soup… that you sit in. And don’t eat.”

Aja chuckled lightly. “I thought that bath was for you,” she said.

Farrah shrugged. “It was, but… I think you deserve it more,” she said. “It’s filled with bubbles.”

Aja smiled. “I would love that.” Farrah returned the gesture before taking Aja’s hand to lead her upstairs. She was still shaking slightly, and hoped that the bath would calm her a little.

Once they got to the bathroom, Aja stripped out of her tight work clothes, the steam from the bath adding to the sweet relaxation. She dipped her toe in the water, and although the sudden temperature change made her skin ache, she climbed in. Sitting down in the slightly cramped tub, she was immersed in bubbles that smelt like candy, just like Farrah always did after a bath. She closed her eyes, dipping her head backwards so the tips of her hair touched the water.

Several seconds later, she felt the water ripple, and Farrah was slotting herself in behind her. A contented hum left her lips.

“I feel like I don’t treat you enough,” Farrah said as she started to pour water over Aja’s head, “especially since I’ve been a whiny brat this past week.”

“You could say that again,” Aja teased.

Farrah lightly pulled on a lock of her hair, but continued the process. “I just wanted to do something nice for you,” she said. “You deserve to relax a bit.”

“Thank you, baby,” Aja said. “I appreciate it.”

Farrah opened the bottle of shampoo and squeezed some into her hand, and started a lather on Aja’s lavender hair. Once each strand was covered in a thick layer of bubbles, she poured more water over her to wash them all away. Aja had never seen Farrah take so much care with something; she normally rushed her tasks, even eating. Her heart warmed at the gesture.

Farrah slathered on a conditioner, rubbing it into her hair gently. She then took the comb lying in the corner of the bath to detangle her hair. She pulled it through until Aja’s hair lay straight along her back.

“Is this okay?” she asked once she was done with the comb, peppering kisses over Aja’s shoulder.

Aja nodded. “Perfect,” she breathed out. She hadn’t opened her eyes once since she’d got in the water.

Farrah ran her hands along Aja’s arms, tracing along her tattoos with her pointer fingers. She’d always wanted some of her own, but she wouldn’t dare go near a needle voluntarily. For now, she could just admire Aja’s.

With a little difficulty, Aja opened her eyes and spun around in the tub so she was facing Farrah. The other girl looked her over, going back to tracing her tattoos silently. Aja pressed forward, steadying herself with the sides of the bath until her lips met Farrah’s. Her hands went from Aja’s arms to her waist and she pulled her girlfriend closer until the gap between them no longer existed. The familiar position sent a burst of euphoria through them both, and for the first time in a week, Aja didn’t feel on edge. For a moment, she even forgot that she was sick.

The kiss was soft and slow, and Aja took her time habituating herself with Farrah’s body once again. She wouldn’t have noticed how long they’d been kissing if it weren’t for the fact that she was becoming light headed from lack of oxygen. Reluctantly, she pushed herself off of Farrah, who moved forward a little to try and catch her lips again.

“I missed you so much,” Farrah whispered. She pawed Aja’s hips.

“I just thought: fuck it; we’re both sick,” Aja said. “I missed you, too.”

Farrah’s nose scrunched up as she smiled, poking her tongue between her teeth. “Now, let me finish washing your hair for you,” she said, pushing Aja back into a sitting position.


End file.
